


Locker Room Rendezvous

by Nekohime



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 16:44:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6618400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nekohime/pseuds/Nekohime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daichi should've known by now that making bets with Kuroo never really ended well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Locker Room Rendezvous

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in one long night for a friend with an intense thirst for KuroDai.

 

“I- ah! - hate you so much.” Daichi bit out, roughly yanking at Kuroo’s hair.

“Mm, no you don’t,” Kuroo purred back like the cheeky little shit he was. He pulled back from Daichi’s neck where he'd been busy marking every bit of skin he could. Daichi winced, he probably looked like he’d been mauled by a particularly excited cat…which wasn’t actually too far from the truth. “I would even go so far to say you like me. A lot,” he sing-songed.

Daichi squirmed, trying to stay coherent and angry at the Nekoma player. A true struggle with the way Kuroo was rubbing at the front of his shorts, stroking the bulge that was there with enough pressure to cause frustration but not alleviate it. “You’re a manipulative asshole.”

“Aw, don’t be mad at me because you lost the bet,” Kuroo cooed, nipping at Daichi’s ear. “Not my fault my team’s better than yours.”

When they had gotten to the training camp, Kuroo had been clever and Daichi had been weak, and before he knew it he had been led right into a bet involving their two teams and how many matches they would each be able to win. Daichi really should’ve known better, but needless to say, Karasuno lost a lot and did a lot of penalty exercises, and Daichi was really regretting his life decisions.

“For now,” Daichi managed to choke out before breaking off into a low groan. Kuroo’s hand had slipped past the waistbands of his shorts and boxers, and was now gripping at the base of his cock. “ _Fuck_.”

“That’s the idea,” Kuroo chirped, all too composed and cheery despite their compromising positions. Daichi didn’t even want to consider what would happen if someone walked in on them now and saw how Kuroo had him pressed up against the lockers with a hand down his shorts. “If it’s any consolation, I promise not to be too difficult this time. We’re kind of on a time crunch after all.”

Kuroo was smirking again, and Daichi just really wanted to punch it off his face because in no way was it fair that he still looked the picture of calm while Daichi was starting to fall apart at the seams just from being stroked off. With a grunt, Daichi yanked the Nekoma captain forward by his jersey and pressed a thigh between his legs to rub up at the obvious tent that had formed.

Kuroo looked like he had gotten the wind knocked out of him, his face scrunching up into a silent moan, and Daichi it was Daichi’s turn to smirk. “Get on with it then.”

Kuroo shot him a glare without any bite to it, and Daichi just shrugged. A small taste of his own medicine. “Turn around.”

“Finally,” Daichi huffed. He turned, striping off his jersey, and pressed his hands against the lockers for balance. “Next time, I’m fucking you. You’re too much of a tease to be allowed to top.”

Kuroo laughed, promptly yanking down Daichi’s sports shorts and boxers in one go, making Daichi yelp. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.”

Daichi could hear Kuroo rustling around in his bag, and then the distinct click of of a bottle being opened. When Kuroo crowded back against him again, it was to the feeling of warm skin against warm skin. “I don’t,” Daichi pushed his ass back, grinding against Kuroo’s erection and groaning as his blood rushed south, making him almost painfully hard. “Not when I’m already stressed, at least.”

Kuroo dropped his head down between Daichi’s shoulders, biting the skin there to muffle a moan. “Got it,” he managed. “No more teasing. For now.”

Daichi snorted. That was probably the best he was going to get from the idiot. He felt a cold slick finger slide down the cleft of his ass, and gasped when it circled his entrance before pushing in.

“ _Fuck_!”

Kuroo kissed his shoulder, one of the weird little affectionate actions he always made sure to do when they fucked. It was completely un-Kuroo like, and yet at the same time something completely indicative of him. “You need to relax. It’ll take longer to prep you if you’re tense.”

“Easy for you to say.” Daichi grit his teeth at the slide of the finger pushing in and out. “You’re not the one with a finger up your ass.” A long one at that. “Not everyone has a kink for pain like you.”

Kuroo chuckled, rocking his hips forward against Daichi’s thigh at the same time he slipped in a second finger, and then a third, the combined sound of their moans echoing in the empty locker room. “It’s not a pain kink. I can’t help it if I like it rough.”

“Jesus.” Daichi shifted his hips back, pain slowly turning into pleasure when Kuroo’s fingers brushed against his prostate. “It’s basically the same,” he huffed, sweat starting to dot his hairline.

Kuroo removed his fingers, and Daichi made a desperate noise of complaint. “Seriously, what the fuck- “ “It is not the same!” Kuroo practically whined, and Daichi has to resist the urge to hit his head against the lockers in front of him. Petulant Kuroo was worse than teasing Kuroo.

“For the love of- Kuroo! Literally anyone could walk in on us right now! Just fuck me already!”

Kuroo was silent, for once, and Daichi didn’t need to see him to know he was blushing. It was rare for Daichi to lose his composure, and as much as Kuroo tried to deny it, Daichi knew it was a total turn on for him.

“Fine,” Kuroo sniffed. There was the sound of something ripping, and the click of the lube bottle again. That was all the warning Daichi got before he felt the tip of Kuroo’s cock pushing into him. Kuroo grunted, dropping his head back onto Daichi’s shoulder. “We’re not done talking about this, though.”

“Please.” Daichi’s voice broke, his mind going hazy with _want_. He pushed his hips back, forcing Kuroo’s cock further in, and flat out _moaning_ from how amazing it felt. “Just shut. Up.”

That seemed to do it because Kuroo nodded, slowly driving his hips forward until he was buried to the hilt.

“Holy _fuck_ you’re tight.” There was a tinge of awe in Kuroo’s voice. “Dude, you okay?”

Daichi tried to kick back at Kuroo’s legs, his face warm with embarrassment and pleasure, but ended up moaning long and low when he missed and Kuroo shifted in him, brushing against his prostate. “Stop. Talking.”

“R-right,” Kuroo stuttered out, hands gripping tightly at Daichi’s hips, voice breaking at the way Daichi’s muscles clenched around him with every small shift.

And then, he was fucking him, pace steady and thrusts firm. It had taken a few tries of them doing this, backs pressed against walls in shadowed corners when no one was looking and fucking in empty gyms once everyone else had left, for them to figure out what worked best for each of them. What got each of them off.

If Daichi was being honest with himself, it wasn’t just Kuroo who liked the brutal pace of a good hard fuck, being left feeling worn out and satisfied. He liked handing over control to someone else for once. It was refreshing, not to always be in charge. It also didn’t hurt that Kuroo was hot (although he would never tell him that) and exceptionally good with his hands…and his hips. A point he was proving with how he was fisting Daichi’s neglected cock again, stroking him off at a pace to match his sharp thrusts.

“K-Kuroo,” Daichi panted out. Kuroo groaned back, the sound bouncing off the walls and mixing in with the obscenely wet sound of skin slapping against lube covered skin. “ _Faster_.”

Kuroo groaned louder, drawing the sound out. “ _Fuck_.” His hips stuttered before picking up speed, Daichi’s skin starting to sting from how hard Kuroo’s thighs were hitting him.

Kuroo’s grip on his hips tightened, pulling Daichi back onto each thrust and tilting his own just enough so that he was hitting Daichi’s prostate with every slam forward.

Daichi cried out, his voice cracking. He scrunched his eyes closed, images of Kuroo’s face pinched in pleasure flashing across his mind. His arms were starting to shake, the muscles burning from the exertion of keeping himself from being rammed into the hard metal of the lockers. His legs weren’t doing much better, his thighs quivering from the fire that was building up in the pit of his stomach. Each snap of Kuroo’s hips stoked Daichi’s orgasm, knocking the breath out of him until the only sounds he was making were broken moans and hard pants.

Behind him, Kuroo really wasn’t doing any better. His hold on Daichi was bruising, his fingers digging into firm muscle. His thrusts were losing their rhythm, his breathing only coming out in loud huffs. They were both so painfully close to the edge.

Daichi hit his climax first, coming hard on the lockers, his body tense and burning and his mouth opened in a loud moan that anyone passing by would’ve been able to hear. His muscles clenching around Kuroo’s dick dragged Kuroo down with him, who came with a cry. He rode both their orgasms out to completion, grinding against Daichi’s ass before stuttering to a stop, his chest pressed firmly against the shorter captain’s broad back.

They stood there like that for a few minutes, both trying to catch their breaths in the hot humid air they had created, before either of them bothered to move.

Kuroo recovered first, sliding out of Daichi. He walked over to the garbage bin by the sink, taking off and tying closed the used condom before throwing it away. He grabbed a handful of paper towels from the dispenser before walking back to Daichi, who had slumped down to the floor without Kuroo behind him holding him up.

“Well,” Kuroo smirked, his mirth barely concealed. “You look thoroughly fucked.”

Daichi glared up at him, too tired to really try to look threatening. He knew he couldn’t argue, though, running a shaky hand through his sweat matted hair. He wasn’t really keen on seeing what he looked like right now. “I need a shower.”

Kuroo handed him a wad of paper towels, then kneeled down next to him to clean off the cum that had gotten on the lockers. “We both could use a shower,” he snorted. “We can’t exactly go back to our teams looking and smelling like… _this_. We’d scare the first years…and Kenma might actually kill me for holding everyone up for this.”

Daichi laughed, feeling tired but much more relaxed than he had been earlier that day. “Now isn’t _that_ a thought.”

Kuroo pushed at his shoulder. “You’d miss me if Kenma killed me.”

“I’d help him hide the body.”

Kuroo gasped, his eyes widening in a look of mock insult. “How cruel.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Daichi stood up, a good natured smile on his face, and grabbed his shorts, tugging them on without bothering with his boxers. He was going to jump right into one of the shower stalls anyway. “We’re the mean ones.”

Kuroo stood up also, following Daichi’s lead and grabbing his towel and a change of clothes out of his sports bag. “I haven’t done anything to earn such hostility.”

“Mhmm,” Daichi walked over to the showers, turning one on and adjusting the temperature. “Nothing at all.”

“I’m an angel.” Kuroo, who hadn’t bothered putting back on his shorts, kicked off his shoes and socks.

Daichi snorted and tossed his shorts on top of Kuroo’s clothes, quickly adding his socks to the small pile. “A saint.”

Daichi crawled under the spray of water, sighing when it hit his skin. Kuroo slid in behind him, pulling the curtain closed. Daichi raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

Kuroo gave him an innocent look. “What? We’re conserving water.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m serious.”

“You have zero self control.”

“Is that a no?”

“No, I’m just pointing out a fact.”

Kuroo smiled. “So it’s a yes then.”

Daichi gave him a sickly sweet smile, everything about it screaming danger. “What it means, is that I hope you like tile marks on your back. Because that wall is about to become your best friend.”

Kuroo, not one to back down from a challenge, smirked back. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

 

Turned out, they didn’t have to worry about holding anyone up because everyone had decided to leave.

So when they both turned up at the dorms almost an hour later than everyone else, with Kuroo limping and grumbling about how ' _you don’t_ _drop people on shower floors, it’s not nice_ ’, they were greeted by a very amused Suga and a very _un_ amused Kenma.

Showing no sympathy for his friend and captain, Kenma promptly kicked Kuroo, making him yelp, and snapped at him for leaving him in charge of unruly children (which really just meant Lev) while he was off fucking his boyfriend.

“We aren’t boyfriends!” Daichi and Kuroo had both protested.

Kenma just stared at them before saying, “Right. Sure. Whatever you need to tell yourselves,” and then walking back inside with a long-suffering sigh when the sound of something breaking with a loud _crash!_ could be heard inside.

Suga just gave the two other third years a knowing look bordering on teasing, but didn’t say anything before turning to go back inside also, telling them that they had saved them some dinner.

 

Kuroo and Daichi stood outside for a bit longer, a little stunned, before deciding that they should probably join everyone else inside and do some damage control. The rest of the night went normally, and, besides a few curious glances, no one asked about what had kept them.

The night was coming to a peaceful end when Kuroo casually sidled up to Daichi, his usual shit-eating grin on his face, and whispered, “Hey, wanna make a bet?”

Daichi groaned. _Here we go again._


End file.
